


Bachelor Party

by justrae2010



Series: Victuuri Wedding Series - Here in Your Arms [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Not really NSFW but defo not innocent, Pole Dancing, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Stripping, YOI Wedding Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010
Summary: It's not every bachelor party that you're treated to a strip tease from your fiancee.





	Bachelor Party

**Author's Note:**

> YOI Wedding Week Day 1
> 
> Prompt: Bachelor Party

Victor’s empty shot glass hit the bar table with a sharp clack, hazy eyes meeting Chris’s through the low lights of the club.

“I can’t believe it.” he rambled, lips tingling. Control over the nonsense spilling from his mouth was long gone hours ago. “In two weeks, I’m getting married to Yuuri Katsuki. _Yuuri Katsuki!”_ A hand raked through his tousled silver bangs. Sober Victor would be mortified at his dishevelled appearance - drunk Victor just blinked at his best friend in round eyed amazement. “How did I get so lucky?”

He was pretty sure he’d already rolled out the same question at least five times already earlier in the middle of their club crawl, but Victor couldn’t help asking again. The idea was still just so… wow!

Yuuri Katsuki.

Was going to be his husband.

Officially.

In two weeks.

The alcohol burned down Victor’s throat, quality of the vodka significantly falling with every passing shot they took. He wasn’t even sure what club they were in now. Christophe had picked it. All Victor knew was that it played good music, the security at the front door had been a little ridiculous, and the drinks were cheap. Smoke pooled around their ankles from the dance floor, and lights flashed from overhead, the beat of the music pulsing through the floorboards.

Victor scanned his eyes around the room from the bar as Chris checked his buzzing phone, watching the shit-eating grin slowly spread over his best friend’s face out of the corner of his eye. It made his heart pound against his ribcage with a little more oomph, hanging on every breath.

Quick fingers typed a short reply, but Victor didn’t get to see what it was before the phone was stuffed back in Chris’s jacket pocket and his newly emptied shot glass slapped down beside Victor’s.

“Just you wait.” Chris said, eyes sparkling and arm looping smoothly through Victor’s. “You’re about to get even luckier.”

Victor’s smile widened.

 

* * *

 

_“You don’t think they’ll go too wild on the bachelor party do you?” Yuuri peeled his furrowed brow away from the garish ‘Perfect Stag Do!’ stand to frown back at his fiancee over his shoulder, face pinched up nervously._

_Victor just nudged a flute of champagne into Yuuri’s fingers, pressing a kiss to the wrinkles in his forehead._

_“Just relax, Yuuri.” he sighed, taking a sip of his own glass. “Phichit will take care of it.”_

_The wedding fair was buzzing with life around them. People packed the halls to the brim, barely able to take two steps without bumping shoulders with another couple. There were stalls everywhere of every kind, from dresses, to cakes, to favours, to stationary. Victor knew Yuuri was already thinking about all of those things, taking in all the signs and posters around him - only the problem was he was taking them in all at once, flooding his brain with one overwhelming concept just seconds before he was bombarded with another. The frenzy was overpowering his excitement, nerves and anxiety fighting through to the surface._

_Victor slunk an arm through Yuuri’s, turning him away from the bachelor party stand and the array of scandalous add ons it advertised._

_“I can’t relax.” Yuuri’s fingers squeezed at Victor’s forearm. “Because I_ know _Phichit will take care of it.”_

 _A smirk tweaked at Victor’s lips, eyes scanning around for something interesting. Anything interesting - but small - to help take Yuuri’s mind out of his mania. He knew exactly what Yuuri meant; Phichit partied_ hard.

_Yuuri was going to have a fantastic bachelor party._

 

* * *

 

Victor’s grin was so wide as they edged through the crowded new club that his cheeks hurt. “Chris, please tell me you didn’t hire a stripper.” Not that he was really going to complain if he had…

The new bar was busier than the last, bodies pressed tight together as Victor tried to inch his way forward under the guiding hands around his upper arms. It was small and intimate. The bar ran along to his left and a small dance floor was to the right, weaving through the high tables littered through the bar area to the doorway ahead, strobe lights and jumping bodies waiting for them on the other side. It sent a ripple of excitement through Victor, wanting to join them.

Something about the place felt familiar. From the elaborate beaded lighting above the bar, to the neon rings around the DJ speakers, and the abstract patterns splashed on the walls. It was so unique, Victor knew he’d seen it all somewhere before but through his alcohol fazed brain, he couldn’t quite place how.

Victor felt the change in the air the instant he stepped through the doorway to the back room. Heat slammed into him like a sweaty, sticky freight train, air thick and humid, slick with too many bodies all jumping to the feverish beat oozing from the DJ booth. It pulsed through the floorboards intoxicating, bouncing up through the soles of Victor’s shoes. A thin sheen of smoke filled the room, but he could still see the body twisting on the stage ahead. Or, at least, the outline of it. Like a stripper. Victor couldn’t say he was disappointed.

He felt Chris’s chuckle breathe over his shoulder more than he heard it. “I promise I did not hire a stripper.”

His chest pressed against Victor’s back as they weaved through the crowd closer to the stage, Victor’s eyes drawn to the long toned legs spinning through the air ahead. Were they pole dancing? Something about the gravity defying moves looked oddly familiar…

“You got my text!”

Victor’s head turned just in time to see a flash of skinny blue jeans and a glittery crop top launch at Chris, the familiar green phone case glinting in the flashing lights.

It took a second moment for the dots to connect though. “Phichit?”

Phichit Chulanont looked a mess. Arms thrown around Christophe’s neck as the Swiss straightened up and a larger than life smile on his face, black bangs falling out of their once swept over style to stick to his forehead through a thin sheen of sweat. A dark flush painted on his cheeks and his eyes were unfocused - the kind they were when one was ragingly drunk. Victor could smell the tequila on his breath already.

Sparkling grey eyes turned to the stage, staring past Victor as round as dinner plates. “Isn’t he _amazing_?!”

Victor didn’t get the chance to follow his gaze before Phichit was falling into him, just about catching the wasted Thai boy before he slipped out of his grasp. Hands fisted in the sequined material of his crop top, hauling him up.

“You’re so lucky!” drawled in Victor’s ear, the last note drawn out ridiculously long. Phichit’s Thai accent was stronger when he was drunk. “I’m jealous.”

A sloppy kiss pressed into the side of Victor’s cheek and Victor tried to resist crinkling his nose up at the waft of alcohol breathed over his face, glad when Chris looped Phichit’s spare arm over his shoulders and took some of the Thai boy’s weight off Victor. A smirking nod shot his way, playful sparkle in Chris’s olive green eyes.

Victor couldn’t help but stare. Phichit’s arm slid surprisingly compliantly from his shoulder and he slumped back against Chris with a begrudging mumble of Thai, eyes still glued on the stage. He’d never seen Phichit quite _this_ drunk before. Drunk dialling ex’s, flirting with some hot guy on the dance floor, or  crying because the wing of his eyeliner was slightly crooked - he’d seen all those drunk Phichit’s, usually helping to carry him home with Yuuri after a wild night. This was something else though. Phichit was all over the place! If he was this bad, Victor couldn’t even imagine what state Yuuri must be in.

His brain clicked back into place with a jolt. He stepped clean between Phichit and his clear view of the stage, clasping the Thai boy’s flushed face in his hands.

“Phichit,” he said, drawing Phichit’s reluctant pout to him. “Where’s Yuuri?”

He could be lying in a ditch somewhere, drunk off his face, or in the arms of some other man - obviously not Yuuri’s choice, but if Phichit was like this then Yuuri must be so drunk, and-

Phichit batted Victor’s hands away from his face, shoving on his shoulder. Victor tilted his body, but didn’t take his eyes off Yuuri’s best man for a second. He didn’t have to though, barely remembering how to do anything more than blink as tanned fingers reached for him, chin pinched between Phichit’s thumb and forefinger with surprising accuracy for the haze dancing in those grey eyes.

They angled his face to the stage, Phichit’s warm breath sighing over his ear in a way that sent shivers down Victor’s spine. “You’re looking at him.”

Victor’s eyes widened.

Suddenly, he knew exactly why the moves on stage looked familiar…

He’d barely snapped his gaze back into focus before the dancer on stage threw himself forward, skidding to the edge of the stage on his knees like a rock star. The crowd went wild. Victor barely heard, ears suddenly buzzing deaf as he stared up into the utter debauched face of his fiancee.

Yuuri looked a mess. His wild dark hair stuck up in all directions, his tanned skin flush and shimmering with a faint sheen of sweat beneath the open white shirt hanging off his shoulders. All the attention bottlenecked to the fine lines of muscle outlining his stomach, trailing down to his hips where Victor’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he noticed the top button on Yuuri’s trousers was popped open. His feet were bare and his sleeves were rolled up around his toned forearms, trousers straining around his thick, spread thighs on the stage.

Victor couldn’t shrug Phichit off fast enough.

He dumped the Thai unceremoniously back into the arms of his best friend before he made a beeline for the front stage, eyes glued on the alluring mess of his husband to be on the stage.

Yuuri hadn’t seen him yet, hips still rolling to the beat of the music and threading a hand through his hair, tilting his head back to reveal the long line of his throat. The crowd reached for him, still screaming for more. It took everything in Victor not to scream at them to keep off, surprised at the flash of jealousy coursing through his system. There was the vodka, he thought, suddenly realising the thin threads holding back his temper watching countless clubbers stroke their fingers down his Yuuri’s thighs, carving his way through them.

“Yuuri!”

Unruly bangs flopped over Yuuri’s face as his head snapped up, bottomless russet brown orbs swimming a moment before they settled on Victor. A clumsy smile crawled over his face.

Up close, Victor could see the fiery blush roaring over Yuuri’s cheeks, the dark flush creeping under the loose line of his tie and flaring out across his chest. He wondered if Yuuri recognised where he was anymore. The hazy look in his eyes didn’t seem to be aware of anything but Victor in that moment, leaning forward and mashing their mouths together over the edge of the stage.

Yuuri swallowed Victor’s gasp, groaning at the rough taste of harsh vodka still clinging to his tongue. Fingers combed through Victor’s sleek silver hair.

He groaned hard with loss when Victor pulled away though, settling his hands on Yuuri’s waist and drawing in a far from steady breath. Bright blue eyes rolled up to the ceiling for half a second, breathless Russian spilling from his lips. Yuuri couldn’t catch the words over the hard thrum of the dance track, eyelashes fluttering as Victor’s thumb brushed over the open line of his shirt to skim the skin beneath.

“God, Yuuri…”

Yuuri’s lips curled in a wicked grin, lapping up the helplessness in Victor’s voice and savouring every syllable of it. He loved hearing Victor wrecked. He wanted to hear more…

His hands fisted in the front of Victor’s shirt before he realised what he was doing, dragging his mesmerised fiancee up over the ridge of the stage and stealing his breath away with another bold kiss. He didn’t care about the crowd. Well, maybe he did. He felt every eye in the room locked on him and Victor, not caring anymore if they were admiring him or envying him in that moment, blood running thick and fast in his veins. He’d drunk too much. He loved it though - almost as much as he loved the way Victor’s body bumped against the length of his as the Russian stumbled to find his footing, the way his fingers tightened around Yuuri’s upper arms.

He dipped down before he’d even decided on what he was doing, instinct taking over as his hands reached behind Victor’s thighs and hoisted him up. Strong legs wrapped around his waist and arms locked tight around his neck, Victor’s gasp cool against the shell of Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri barely stopped to savour it, turning on his heel and marching Victor back to the width of the stage, where the silver pole poked proudly through the slither of smoke. The pieces of his plan slowly clicked together.

He didn’t see who it was who pushed the bar stool up on the stage but Yuuri didn’t break stride as he swept it up in passing, feeling Victor’s fingers curl into his skin at the hand dropping away from underneath him. Yuuri’s grip didn’t waver for a second though, strong muscles holding firm. Victor’s body was pressed closed to his as Yuuri strode up the stage with bold, confident steps, dragging the stool behind them.

It swung forward suddenly - Victor feeling Yuuri’s shoulder roll with the movement - and the Russian barely had a chance to piece together the mad thump of his heartbeat before he pitched down through the air. The bar stool was hard beneath him, but he didn’t have the presence of mind to complain.

Especially as Yuuri stepped back and slender fingers unthreaded the length of his tie, sliding it free of his collar with a tell-tale bite of his lip.

Victor’s fingers curled around the edge of the bar stool, gripping hard. He needed it to keep himself grounded, feeling the weight of the rooms eyes watching him - and more importantly, Yuuri’s. Almost predatory russet orbs settled on him and Victor’s skipped a beat when something dangerous flashed there, Yuuri’s arm reaching up over Victor’s head.

Victor had nearly forgotten about the pole until Yuuri gracefully pulled himself up and wrapped his legs around it, curling around the thin stroke of metal and swinging himself lower until he slid smoothly into Victor’s lap, thighs straddling his hips. Victor’s breath caught, feeling the heat radiating from Yuuri’s body - so close, but still a hairsbreadth of space between them. His hands settled instinctively on Yuuri’s hips, thumbs tucking subtly into the waistband of his trousers.

It was like the first night they’d met all over again. Yuuri drunk on confidence as much as the alcohol, seemingly ignorant of all the eyes following their every move, while his own hooded gaze was reserved for Victor and Victor alone. Victor could never get enough of it.

Yuuri’s fingers stroked along his collarbones, dragging his shirt with them and revealing more tantalising tanned skin. His shoulders rolled deliciously. They shimmied out of the shirt, a sleeve slipping down Yuuri’s back and upper arm. Yuuri’s head turned, hooded eyes glazed with lust and alcohol gazing over his shoulder as more of the shirt slipped away.

The crowd screamed over the music in response, tune slipping into something a little more sultry. The beat thrummed through Victor’s veins, wide eyes captivated by the beauty in his lap. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that his Yuuri was being so bold.

Victor blinked his eyes over Yuuri’s shoulder, following his sultry gaze to the crowd. From this angle he could finally see just how big the room was, packed to the brim with bodies going wild around the stage, every eye in the house fixed on him and Yuuri. He even caught Yurio lurking in the DJ booth beside Otabek, jaw hanging slack with shock. Even from this distance, Victor could see the dark blush painted on the teens cheeks.

Otabek’s bar, Victor finally clicked. They were in Otabek’s bar. He knew he’d seen the decour before, remember Yurio saying that was where they were going to take Yuuri for his bachelor party.

They’d obviously not planned on this, on Yuuri going so off the rails. Phichit was loving it, Yurio looked horrified, and Otabek… well, Otabek was probably just enjoying all the extra business it was bringing in. People flocked around the stage, clambering to get a better look as Yuuri slowly striped himself of his once stylish suit, slithering more and more skin into view.

Every extra inch only tightened the already uncomfortable bulge in the front of his trousers, the way Yuuri’s hips pressed down against him not doing anything to help. He couldn’t help the way his own hips flexed, searching for contact.

Yuuri obviously felt it, the tiniest of jolts biting through him. His composure stuttered for just a moment, frozen in place on Victor’s lap with his shirt half hanging off, wrist still caught in the sleeve holding his arm behind his back. Victor used it to his advantage, leaning forward to press his lips to the place where Yuuri’s neck met his shoulder and sucking _hard_. Blood vessels popped under his mouth, bruising deliciously so everybody knew it was Victor that got to see the full show on a regular basis, got to see Yuuri’s true Eros. He was even sexier when he was sober.

Yuuri bit back a moan, head tilting back to expose the long line of his throat to Victor’s hungry gaze. Lips followed, trailing more opened mouthed kisses up Yuuri’s neck, marking him.

Victor enjoyed the shudder it drew from Yuuri, revelling in the way his fiancee was slowly being stripped of more than just his clothes. He wanted to see more, tease more, test more, make more of a show… he wanted the world to see what it what it was missing, what it could never have in Yuuri Katsuki because Yuuri was his alone.

A hand trailed up from Yuuri’s hip to smooth along his waist, palm caressing the firm but soft skin as it ran a distinctive path up Yuuri’s body. It curled up over his chest, fingers creeping up over his collarbone and smoothing back down over the ridge of his shoulder. A finger hooked over the edge of the shirt still clinging to one side of Yuuri’s body. Victor’s palm flowed down the lean muscle of Yuuri’s arm, following the curve of his tricep, the strong arch of his forearm - all the while slowly stripping Yuuri of the last of his shirt and revealing more flawless skin to their wanton audience.

Yuuri shivered, body trembling. His eyes were fluttered shut now, shoulders twitching forward a fraction to instinctively hunch from the crowd baying behind him. It had been too long since he’d had a drink, Victor realised, sobering a little himself at the thought.

Even with his confidence waning, Yuuri still rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the last of his shirt and throwing across the stage to the screaming crowd. Hands grabbed, garment lost in seconds.

Victor could only imagine how Yuuri’s glorious shoulders must look to the clubbers, feeling the tiny muscles in his lower back and arms work to hold his balance. His shoulder blades must be shimmying deliciously, dancing beneath the glorious expanse of his skin, body moving like a living piece of art hand crafted by the gods. He wanted to touch more, feel more. Feel everything.

Everything disappeared.

Victor blinked at the suddenly empty air in front of him, brow furrowing and gaze quickly sobering. His eyes flittered. Where was Yuuri?

He could still hear the calls from the crowd and feel the heat from the club, but a chill rolled over him without Yuuri’s hot body smothered over him, vision blurring the more he scanned the world around him. Where had he gone? Across the stage Victor could make out reaching fingers, hear screams, feel a distinct pressure between his legs… he glanced down instinctively, groaning hard at the very obvious tent in his trousers. And there was no Yuuri in his lap to hide it anymore. He swallowed thickly.

He ripped his gaze up a little too quickly, eyes mashing with the beam of one of the strobe lights. Victor was blinded. White swamped his vision, mottles of black and grey blotting around him. The world didn’t make sense, body sinking heavier into the very solid bar stool beneath him and glad of its reassuring presence. Colours bloomed slowly, filling in the gaps in grey to more than just indistinguishable shapes.

Tan was the first one he saw.

Black was the next, tipped back over a tanned face as Yuuri apparently knocked back a shot, center stage. Victor barely caught the glint of the glass as Yuuri tossed it to waiting hands at the crowd edge.

His back was to Victor, feet braced apart wider than usual and hands hidden from view, meddling somewhere over the front of his hips. The crowd went wild. Whatever it was Yuuri had done seemed to have the desired effect, waltzing back over to Victor with a sultry smile on his face.

Victor wasn’t sure what he was expecting Yuuri to do anymore. Everything about this evening was strange, and wonderful, and the most unpredictable thing that could have happened. Victor wasn’t sure he could be surprised anymore, not sure what else could top his usually shy fiancee pole dancing and stripping for him in front of a club full of people.

Despite everything though, he was still rendered boneless with shock when Yuuri leaned forward and sealed their lips in a kiss. Victor’s lips parted eagerly for more, groaning deep in his chest at the intoxicating taste of hard liquor on Yuuri’s tongue.

“Is there a sexy way to take off trousers?”

It wasn’t what Victor expected to hear as Yuuri’s mouth grazed off his, but he wasn’t complaining, breath hitching as Yuuri planted his hands dangerously high on Victor’s thighs.

“You’re always sexy,” rolled off Victor’s tongue breathlessly, wide eyes trailing down the exposed skin of Yuuri’s toned torso. He drank in every curve of muscle, every perfect square inch of skin until Yuuri’s trousers got in the way. Victor’s eyes popped, hovering on Yuuri’s groin. No wonder the crowd had gone wild - Yuuri had _popped the button on his trousers_ , the top flaps hanging a little open to reveal his sleek black underwear and the very firm bulge they contained. Victor’s throat ran impossibly dry. “God, I can’t wait to marry you.”

It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t hot. It was just the alcohol loosening his tongue and dissolving the filter between his brain and his lips, words burning with raw truth.

He actually whined when Yuuri straightened up and turned his back on him again, but he wasn’t left wanting long as Yuuri sank back down onto his lap, this time with his back pressed against Victor’s chest. His legs braced either side of Victor’s, spreading his thighs wide. Victor fastened his mouth onto Yuuri’s shoulder, mouthing his groan into Yuuri’s warm skin.

“You crashed my bachelor party.”

Yuuri’s voice sounded breathless too, rolling his hips deliciously over Victor’s in a way that left the Russian burning with need.

Victor ran his hands up either side of Yuuri’s waist. “No regrets.”

He felt the stutter in Yuuri’s chest as he chuckled, hearing the warmth in his smile. Victor wished he could see it properly, only able to catch the corner of Yuuri’s upturned lips.

Just before he could count himself at a disadvantage to the rest of the crowd though, Yuuri’s fingers slipped through his, guiding them smoothly up to his chest. Victor’s breath hitched. Yuuri flattened his hands against his hot skin, Victor feeling every tiny shift in his abs, every tense of the lean muscles carving out his body. It was a blessing and a curse; Victor grew painfully hard underneath Yuuri. He didn’t dare take his hands away though - especially as Yuuri moved it for him. His shock stilled fingers trailed lower and lower down Yuuri’s torso under his expert guidance. Victor was pretty sure he forgot how to breathe.

“Yuuri,” he groaned in his lover’s ear, a choked off sound drawn from his lips as his fingertips brushed the elastic band of Yuuri’s underwear.

The crowd roared. Of course they did, Victor thought breathlessly, fluttering his fingers against the smooth material stretched across Yuuri’s hips. They wanted more, wanted to see everything - and so did Victor! But not like this...

It was like Yuuri read his mind, face tilting to bring his lips as close to Victor’s ear as he could get. “Maybe we should save the big unveiling for a more… _private_ show?”

Victor didn’t even bother replying.

He stood up in a heartbeat, arm linking under Yuuri’s knees and swinging him up into his arms in one smooth movement. Yuuri yelped very un-sexily, hands fisting instinctively in Victor’s collar to steady himself. The flaring red flush over his cheeks was simply adorable, Victor smirking proudly to himself as he marched his fiancee back up the length of the stage.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught two figures jumping just a fraction higher - and a whole lot wilder! - than the rest of the clubbers, Phichit and Christophe practically clambering over each other as they screamed their approval. He would have to thank them later for such a great bachelor party.

And Otabek.

And apologise to Yurio for the lifelong embarrassment.

But all of that could wait until after Victor had taken Yuuri home and had his _private_ show, thanking his lucky stars that he got to keep the vixen in his arms as his for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


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